blue billow @bluebillow - Tumblr Blog

adhd

A hedonist, an escapist. Trying to get my life in order is such a daunting task. I’m always craving something savory, a perfectly rolled joint, a perfectly brewed coffee, extra rich tasting foods, a drink, a psychedelic trip. I crave the sap in the tree and the honey, I’d be fossilized in amber if I could.

Mangos are my summer romance

pandemic

knowing, remembering, these two words repeating themselves, revealing a pattern.

rummaging on lessons broken and repeated, repetition, patterns.

over and over like the groundhog’s day we’re living in.

It’s a pandemic so maybe we’re all rummaging on repeat, remembering, knowing, regretting.

abuse

running in a circle of terror.

knowing how well the heart feels fear and apprehension

how you forget to trust yourself and step into the terror anyway

i’m trying to make sense of things, replaying moments of doubt

the alarms blaring, and me tuning them out to a sweet soundtrack I’ve assigned to your charming facade

It’s terrifying to meet such a confident liar

you want to empathize but there is just something so dark about the “act” of love that has been performed over and over again with the same outcome of violence. you the wounded child who chose to let the chaos define love for you, and me? feeling pulled by the wounded and letting them in until they’ve torn me. An unconscious act of masochism.

I feel stupid writing, I keep these anecdotes in my mind for the time that it’ll “feel right” to write but it never does. My anxiety has been swallowing me whole for a long time now and I feel completely consumed and sitting in the whale’s gut. I forget that what I’m feeling is anxiety, it's so quiet, dark, and damp. Sounds feel far, the present feels far. When I was younger I used to suffer from anxiety attacks, vivid nightmares, trouble breathing… this anxiety is so worn that it’s become dull and lifeless, I don’t even recognize it.

I’m in Florida right now, I’m living at my mother’s post trial, post trauma, confronting my PTSD head on, kind of. It’s hurricane season, my dog is anxious as well and keeping me too aware for comfort. I recently started to console her during her storm shakes and began to imagine that in someway, that comfort would transfer to me.

It’s weird to be in Florida right now, the storms isolate the land and make it feel like an island that’s about to be washed away by a tidal wave. I dream of tidal waves all the time but for the first time I envisioned it in daylight while walking Maya. I saw it while looking over at a neighbors house, the vast grey skies behind it shrinking it from existence.

It’s lush here, I’m healing things, that I know, but I’m also starting to realize it’s going to take a lot longer than I expected. I’m a dreamer, and I still have these grand visions, but the illusions are fading… my ideas of love and relationships are wrecked ships still sinking, my grand career and money are just moles digging me deeper in debt with reality.

My childhood wounds are speaking to me like an omniscient voice, I’m becoming more honest, more open, more vulnerable with my family. Today my brother came to my house with his 5 year old daughter, my beautiful niece Luna… when I opened she ran and hugged me and my brother followed with that same big hug and teary eyes, like he knows and sees my pain and is sorry. In his car he started talking to me about Murphy’s Law and how when a person reaches that point where they feel like giving up, some magical opportunity appears. I sometimes wonder how he knows so much when I don’t share with him. I’m rabbling, I don’t care… I’ve been needing to write. I’ve been talking to my friends, mother, sister, but not with myself, not out loud. This feels good.

My journal lately has been daily high intensity workouts, morning yoga/pilates. Something about pushing your heart to its max and making your muscles tremble reminds me of my body, keeps me grounded. Those momentary endorphins make it ok that sex is no longer a desire of mine. This ptsd comes in waves, most months i feel euphoric and self-assured. I feel honest, open, unashamed, and aware. Healing is forgiving yourself for your darkness, sitting with it, facing it. I’ve had conversations with my sister and mother I never dreamed I’d have the courage to initiate. I’ve accepted realities I used to refuse and opening doors to options I used to never consider. Open relationships seem more realistic than they ever have, platonic romance too. I really truly love myself, but PTSD has episodes, and I’m currently in one, confronting my mother for choices she made, not blaming her, just letting her know what my experience was like and how I’m trying to unlearn the coping and survival habits I created in those times. My rapist is a free man, I guess I can live with that but it still eats at me in moments unexpected and rare. triggers are a real thing no matter how hard I try to convince myself or try to will it out of me. I’m learning so much about myself, working on myself head-on and this shit is no joke. One thing is for certain, I never feel lonely. All this confrontation with my wounded child/wounded adult, open and unfiltered honesty, clear and concise boundaries, avoiding self-destructive behavior has made me so comfortable with myself no matter what the mood is but currently, she’s a little sad and hopeful, she’s breaking patterns and feeling wounded and tender.

letter to my ex

you made me unwell

we were never well

i became consumed,

like the cup of water by your bed

you were always parched

every day your emotions spun on a wheel

I felt anxious for you, darkness your dictator

your reality had no glamour, only your dreams

your mirror was a house of mirrors

dishonest and terrifying

i empathized for you, but i became unwell, I was always unwell

sucked dry - no matter how much love i gave, you were always alone

no matter how much reassurance, you were never enough

I was walking on the eggshells you once believed were pedestals

I was never perfect, but

I am happier now.

Today, I just wanted to see you and laugh

without all the walls up

self protective shields because mourning you has been so painful, my heart cannot take it

To see you and speak to without the vulnerability was alien

we were always so vulnerable with each other

now i wear a knife on my sleeve for protection.

cielo azul

siloetas azul caen desde el cielo,

amanezco en sus sombras

y me acarician con nubles q me prometan lo nuevo

come quiciera yo poder volar en ese cielo

y admirar como cae lo azul atras de mi

hacia lo oscuro.

I piled up all my corpses

I lit the match but I’m still just here, standing over them.

my fingers are burning.

water dream

new water dream. last night, almost playfully, i kept diving deeply into a body of water and swam as deep as I could until i can no longer hold my breath and swam up. I did this numerous times and every time I did it, another part of me would worry that I wouldn't make it to the top in time, but i did, every time. what's strange is I almost didn't have control over that playful version of myself that kept willingly diving deep into the water, and every time i dove in again, I'd fall deeper and deeper.

last monday was my official last day on an awful medication, i had a fever, body aches, and a painful reminder of an ongoing case as it was the also the date of the arraignment. to add on, i was also pre-menstrual and raging with emotions on all levels. surprisingly, the universe has been throwing all kinds of work at me, abundance at my feet. I worked almost everyday last week, and as i counted my blessings i also struggled to fight this war within me. I've done everything in my power to avoid self-destruction, i believe this abundance is the outcome of the energy work from keeping myself focused, determined, and confident. I'm trying hard to practice self love, I can always do more but I'm still hurting. I'm still having trouble sleeping. I'm still having surreal dreams that leave me feeling drugged when i rise. i shot a wedding last night, i havent shot one alone in a long time... and something that once took me weeks to edit, I completed today.. just 4 hours. it was fulfilling, my work ethic has been beautiful but the night comes and i hardly feel alive, like a million voices turn on in my head. i'm in this intensely surreal state, trauma is there but i'm not experiencing it as I'd expect to. More than anything i feel a physical tension in my chest, fleeting thoughts that are purely visionary, time is warping, out of reach places feel just as accessible as closing my eyes and envisioning myself there. i feel drugged. i have anti-anxiety(anti-depressants) that have been in my office for a month untouched. tonight i broke the seal, served myself a glass of water and then fought myself and put the pills away. I convince myself I'm ok, because i do feel empowered... but i'm also, I don't know... i'm something i haven't quite experienced before. I'm dead and alive all at once.

Sentineli

In a wake to sleep trance last night, i saw myself with a group of women wearing hawk head pieces reciting “we the sentineli dau‬ghters are on a mission in this incarnation, we recognize each other, but others do not”. So, I looked up what sentineli is and apparently they are among the last people to remain virtually untouched and uncontacted by modern civilization living in North Sentinel Island in the Andaman Islands of India. They are thought to be directly descended from the first human populations to emerge from Africa.

being with you is lonelier.

boredom is a bully. i want to set a fire and burn all of it, crystallize you in ashes, keep you in an alter to remember, to let go.. waxing and waning and dreading manifestations. I’m being pulled by dead emotions and new ones. transmutations, feeling death and birth so tied together with the throbbing flesh of my tearing womb. I feel responsible, helpless, neglected and fooled. nothing is ever truly stagnant, the tides inside us will push and pull until something is set free. we’re so predictable. love is forever fleeting.

fragrant fruit in the sky i walk knee deep in the sensuous juice spilled overnight on this barren land like a gift conversations in my sleep have left me spinning in intangible threads of new Alterations, I’ve been spun into a dress of entities with a million lives in flight.

#poetry

the budding skin removing itself from flesh bound by bone summoned by your voice in the waking dawn between my eyelids lifted in this state of waking earth where my lips erupt manifestations of eternal refuge your skin feels like foreign foliage uncoordinated with the wind.

#poetry

the summer of 15

i think of that saying, “blood is thicker than water” i feel them like water, like tides from the same sea. because of our blood, we share the same heart, losing any of them is like having a limb cut off bleeding out..

Trending Blogs

Recently Viewed Blogs

blue billow